


Colors

by Shaish



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: CATWS AU, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, F/M, Gen, Vampire AU, Vampire Bucky, vampire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-04-01 17:10:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4028044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaish/pseuds/Shaish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Do you want to see the colors?</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Colors

**Author's Note:**

> Drabble brought on by this post: http://supersmoakinghot.tumblr.com/post/118806244204

The door doesn’t creak when she opens it like in the movies she sometimes cynically amuses herself with by watching, but not much of her life is like the movies at all. They get some things right, but most of it is wrong, off by varying degrees or a mile wide. 

This is one of them. 

The stairs don’t creak, either, and the wind isn’t rustling the leaves. It’s silent save for her heart beat that gives her away, but she is prepared for that. Just like the voice that comes when she steps inside.

“ _So_ ,” it calls from all over, then, “You found me,” from straight ahead.

She stills.

He melts from the shadows like dripping wax, solidifies in a way that blurs around the edges and hurts her eyes, makes her want to look away.

She keeps them trained on him.

“You’re not like I pictured,” she says, because saying ‘imagined’ will boost his ego. She knows that much.

He _hums_ and it _echoes_ , hits her down in a place she’s not comfortable with, beyond her body and limbs and made sturdy bones.

“You aren’t, either,” he replies, lips tugging up and white teeth sharp like knives.

“Better?” she asks, pulling her own lips up, as well. It is kind of funny, the stories they tell themselves.

He _hums_ again, noncommittally, but she can read his eyes just fine even from here. Vampire blood will do that.

She lets her lips fall back to resting and pulls the blade out of the holster at her lower back, beneath her jacket. His smile turns down, something a little sad in red his eyes.

“Do we have to, Natasha?” he asks.

“You know that we do,” she replies, flipping up the binding strap on her thigh holster with the other and resting her fingers around familiar metal, almost as black as the shadows part of him is still made of.

He doesn’t quite sigh and she feels that deep down, too. 

It doesn’t matter.

She draws her gun whip quick and _fires_ -

He turns into black smoke beneath the bullet and she dodges back, avoids claws and then rolls to the side and fires again, watches him disappear like one of those mutants in _X-Men_. She gets up and _lunges_ forward and he _jerks_ his head back just in time, red eyes glinting in the moonlight. 

They dance for ten more minutes before teeth sink into her skin and she _grunts_ , _stabbing_ her blade back into his gut. He makes a _small_ sound and his teeth sink deeper, and she can feel the drain of it, of blood leaving her through that sharp, bright point.

His arms wrap around her front and it’s a literal cold comfort, but warm all the same time, and he slowly lowers her to the floor when she can no longer feel her feet or the tips of her fingers, body going numb. He pulls his teeth out and slides her bangs from her face, as bright a red as his eyes were. But they’re blue now, like winter, contrasting her blood trailing down out of the corners of his mouth.

She turns her head and looks at the floor.

It’s silent for a while, long enough that her vision starts to fade, heartbeat slowing.

“Do you want to see the colors?” he asks, almost a whisper, nails retracting against her cheek, light, little scratches that don’t do anything more than brush. “All the ones you can’t see with your human eyes?”

A strain swells in her chest and she _coughs_ once, red flecks back into her field of vision, hitting the cement where her head’s turned away.

“I have a choice?” she manages. 

He stills in a way only vampires do, the way the serum and blood long since embedded into her system allows her to do, too. Or, did.

“We’ve both had enough of those taken from us,” he replies, deadly soft. His body comes to life again and she closes her eyes. “It is your choice, Natalia.” She hasn’t been called that in a long, long time.

Silence. The sound of an owl cooing to the moon in the distance like a far away lover.

 _It’s not inappropriate,_ she thinks.

“Yes,” she finally decides, as sturdy as she can, letting the gun fall from her fingers with a _clunk-clack_ , parts of her fracturing inside just like she knows he did, also a long, long time ago, “Yes.”

She feels him bend over her like a crumbling mountain, pieces cascading to bury her alive, and then hears a _squelch_ , sees _pale_ and _red_ come loom into her vision and feels _warmth_ and _liquid_ pressed to her lips, and parts them, lets him inside.

He is _Zimnij Soldát_ , Winter Soldier, her second love and her life’s mission to destroy, and when she opens her eyes, she sees the colors he was talking about, and realizes that he is not as cold as she had thought he had become, under the veneer of playful smirks and coy smiles. 

Realizes that the stories were wrong.

He is more like _Spring_ than _Winter_ , and she still burns hotter than the height of _Summer_.

He is not Winter and she is not a Hunter, and they are pawns and children and now, now, finally, they are _free_ _from the games of man_.

**Author's Note:**

> On tumblr: http://shaish.tumblr.com/post/119477953811/james-bucky-barnes-natalia-natasha-romanoff


End file.
